Unbreakable Steel
by IrishFlare
Summary: Life's mistakes and accomplishments intertwine becoming blurred.  Steel steps back into the world she tried to forget.  She discovers that no one is unbreakable.


The tint of pink of early dawn crept through the bottom of the window shade. The thin dirty linen that covered the cracked open window fluttered in the crisp morning air. I should have been awake. Be already up and dressed, ready to start the day. Mrs. Theresa's dresses would be ready to be picked up at tailors. The dresses, made out of a new type of soft fabric, with lace and bows, were to be worn at today's luncheon. There was going to be an announcement made.

Mrs. Theresa had a glow about her lately. Her fair porcelain skin was slightly flushed; her ginger curls had a bit more bounce. I had my guesses about the announcement. I wasn't quite sure how it would affect me, but I know that there was going to be change. I guess I decided I could accept that this morning. Maybe it was the unusual crispness in the air that cleared my doubts. I had to be ready to accept whatever may come. With that conclusion I let my feet touch the cold wooden floor as I searched for my stockings.

"Mornin' Miss Steel." Called Mr. George. Mr. George was a runaway. Freed him with the help of the woman he worked for and now made decent living working for the carpenter down towards the closer side of Manhattan. He helped handle the horses for fitting on the carriages. The need for sophistication and class still called for a horse and carriage. Mr. George was an older man, with dark leather like skin, his body worn but still fit. He looked tired, but his eyes always sparkled.

"Mornin' Mr. George! Ya got any good lookin' ones comin' in today?" I paused, knowing I didn't really have moments to spare, but Mr. George had been part of my life for almost ten years now. A good morning was a necessity every day. He had lived in the lodging house with Ma, Pa and I in the Kitchen. When Ma left, Pa well he was just never the same, he left to. Mr. George stepped in. He became almost like a father. Mr. George taught me to read. He had worked here since he moved to the city. He used to tell me about the horses from home. He followed the ones at the track. So he always liked talking about the carriage ones that came by to be fitted.

"We'll see, maybe. There was a black one in here just last week, a beauty she was. Large milky eyes, came off the track, couldn't run fast enough." He paused rubbing his stubbly chin. "Read anything lately in the papers?"

I felt his gaze, was a bit concerned, it made me uncomfortable. I wrinkled my nose a bit and shook my head. "Nah; why?" I hesitated, Mr. George, got a paper every day. Said it was important to stay informed. I know it was because he was one of the few black men lucky enough to been taught to read. One news boy came by the place every day. His name was Sean, an Irishman. He was from the Kitchen as well.

"Looks like there was another girl found in an alley. You mind yourself ya hear!" he warned solemnly. I couldn't help but smile. I felt a slight sting as my chapped lips split instantly tasting metal on my tongue from the blood. Remembering the time I blew him a kiss. He just smiled and shook his head, going back to work.

I needed to make my way towards the tailor's shop. As I turned to leave I saw the newsboy. He was tall, a thicker build, not scrawny like the lot of them. His hair was all over the place. That once red shirt now had faded to pink. He smiled. I felt my cheeks twinge with heat. Why did that smile make me swoon like that? That's what Mrs. Theresa called it. She said I was smitten, when I mentioned him. She told me she used to swoon over Mr. Stine the same way.

I smiled as I thought of the boys dark eyes, the way they sparkled when he smirked. He was grumpy sometimes, but he fascinated me. It was his smile that caught my attention. I felt heat creep into my cheeks again. I knew almost nothing about him, I knew his name. That he was Irish, and he was from the Kitchen. He lived here in Manhattan now at a lodging house down the street.

"Coit!" someone snapped. I startled glancing around quickly. I had lost myself in a daydream as I walked to the shop, in the process knocking over a basket of potatoes on the street. I cringed realizing it was Seth Adams, the shop owner a grouchy old man, never nothing nice to say. I mumbled a 'sorry' as I quickly slid into the tailors shop. Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath. Clearing my throat I walked to the counter.

"I'm here for Mrs. Theresa Stine's dresses, please." I spit out at the woman behind the splintering wooden counter. She glanced over me a moment, looking at my clothing, her eyes lingering on my scuffed and worn boots. I pulled nervously on my skirt. It hung slightly wrinkled, snuggly across my bust. I swallowed uncomfortably.

"Mrs. Stine? It will be three dollars." The woman grunted. I avoided looking at her wrinkled face. I searched through my satchel for the money she had given to me the day before. I didn't usually work on Wednesday, but Mrs. Theresa asked me to come in today. I handed the woman the money. She snatched it with cold fingers and counted it again. She waddled out from behind the desk and left the room. She returned a few moments later with a white dress, bigger then I had picked up at earlier times. There was also a royal blue dress, simple but elegant. This was reasonably smaller than the other one. I nodded a thank you and headed out onto the street.

I made my way down the cobblestone block. The city was alive. Manhattan's residents were out and about. There were men in suits traveling to work, while night laborers returned home, or to the already open taverns. The newsboys were out the factory girls were swooning and taunting them as they ate their breakfast before the bell. I caught glimpse of a red shimmer in the hair of a girl on the corner.

"'Ey you! Filly!" I called quickening my pace. Filly, about 5'6", slender build, was my bunkmate. She slept on the bunk above me. She wasn't from here, apparently spent two years on a boat from some country far away. She was a factory worker now. She acted like a filly. Like the ones at the track, she even showed the speed of those thoroughbreds. She'd like Mr. George if she met him. She was impulsive and thick skinned. She seemed to find joy in being rambunctious. I smirked. Her hazy green eyes caught mine and she smiled.

"Steel! Ya deciding to work today? What are ya doin with those dresses! Those are to pretty for one of us to be carrying around. Someone's gonna think ya stole it!" she grinned. Her freckles brought out the twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

"What no good are ya doin now Filly?" I asked playfully. I knew that look. She was stirring up trouble. Which meant that somewhere near by her partner in crime may have been preparing to join in on the commotion. Filly smirked, and nodded towards her right shoulder.

"See those boys?" she paused. "Those are the newsboys from the Manhattan Lodging house. Ya know how Illusion has been missin' at night a few times over the last month. Well I followed her here today. She's been meetin' up with that boy over there." I glanced over Filly's shoulder scanning for Illusion. I found her, she was talking to a shorter male, he looked Italian and he had a half smoked cigar in his mouth and papers under his arm. His red suspenders helped to make him stand out. Filly grinned as she watched my face.

"I think Illusion has met a new friend." She laughed. I smirked.

"Be nice Filly. Ya don't need to be scarin' him off yet. Illusion could use the company. She's been whining about being lonely lately anyway. When ya get outta shop tonight ya, wanna grab a drink?"

"Of course." She paused a moment. "I'm inviting him as well." Filly motioned over her shoulder again. I glanced back at Illusion watching her play with her hair. I shrugged.

"She probably just met him down at the track. Ya know how much she loves it down there."

"Meet ya downtown later, we can all walk back together, just gotta find Whiskey and let 'er know." I called back to her as I backed away continuing to Mrs. Theresa's. I hurried to make up for my sluggish walk earlier.

When I reached the house just past ten, it was chaos. There were women everywhere, all had just arrived. I was frantic, Mrs. Theresa would be furious for me being late. But at least Mrs. Sophie, the live in, would fetch them tea, as I snuck in through the back door.

I was startled to see Mrs. Theresa in the kitchen, waiting. She didn't waste time, and as soon as the door closed behind me she took my arm and pulled me towards the stairs.

"Steel, you're late. We must dress you quickly." She said as she climbed the stairs two at a time, then escorting me down the hallway to her room.

She hung the new dresses up on the wall as she began to undress. I couldn't help notice her now fuller belly. She unbuttoned the white dress, pulling it on, she pointed behind her towards the lace. I tied it as tight as I could as she smoothed out the wrinkles. She smiled at herself in the mirror and pinched my cheek. She pointed to the blue dress.

"Put it on." She instructed. I stared at her blankly. I was confused. Me? Someone who sleeps in a lodging house, who obtained money by stealing or doing errands for various people; the last thing I ever expected, was to wear clothing of this fine quality. She nudged me. "Hurry up, they are waiting!" she insisted as she rustled around the room. I began to undress. I let my dirty skirt and blouse fall to the floor. I covered my body with my arms, embarrassed about the scars. Though I had lived with Mrs. Theresa's father for a few years as a child, at the age of thirteen I left, moved to the street. I found Mr. George back home in the Kitchen. He helped me work odd jobs. I found my own way of making money, well making Nightmare's money. Mrs. Theresa had found me in a peculiar position one day, and after a day of sharing memories, she brought me aboard at her house. I did odd jobs for her. It was her way of keeping me out of trouble. It worked only slightly. I was now just barely 17. I knew more about life then any teenager should know at this age. Alcohol was a vice I shared with my bunkmates, and together we drowned in the bottle, finding us trouble that left us with scars.

Mrs. Theresa ticked at my self-consciousness as she forced the dress into my hands. I slowly put the dress on. I had never worn something of this quality. She smiled warmly as she pulled the dress tightly shut with the lace. It was the finest moment I would have in that dress. My long honey brown hair fell against the fabric, the waves falling over my shoulders. I smiled. My eyes almost matched. The red tint of the scar from my neck to my collar bone showed the resemblance of necklace, a broken necklace, as if it had been torn from my neck.

"Come now Steel." She smiled. Steel, she called me. It was her pet name for me. She said that I had such a stubborn streak that I was harder to bend then steel. The name had stuck.

I followed her lead down to the sitting room where we were warmly greeted by Mrs. Theresa's closest friends and family. Lunch began and for once I sat at the table with them. I was at Mrs. Theresa's right side. At one point she touched my arm as she rose to make her announcement. The talking dwindled as the now full women noticed her standing.

"Ladies, I would like to thank you for joining me today for lunch. You that are here are dear to me. And I need to tell you all a little secret." She paused. Her faced beamed. She was so excited. "I'm with child!" she almost shrieked.

Congratulations, laughter and clapping quickly enveloped the room. She smiled and gently shushed the crowd. "But there are going to be changes. I will be leaving. We will be leaving." She corrected herself. "The doctor said it would be best for me to be in a warmer place. The cold is wearing me down. It would be best for me to leave. We will be leaving within the end of the month…" she continued to talk, but I was panicking. I felt the tears catch in my throat. For the last two years or so I had some sort of stability. A job, income, sure I still did other odd jobs, but this was the last of the family I had. I sat numbly at the table, a smile forced on to my face. As inside I felt my body tremble as I fought not to cry.

In her room a few hours later I was putting the last of my few belongings there in my satchel. I avoided her looks. She finally stopped me, grabbing my hand. I froze.

"Steel, I will be back. But I must go for a while the doctor says its best for me to do this. I'm not so good anymore. I'm not as young as I used to be." She paused. "When you left, I tried to find you. The courts said they put you in a house with factory girls. That you'd be working there. Who could have imagined a twelve year old in a factory?" I looked at the floor, trying to find a place with a splinter. She had no idea. When I left at twelve, I quickly found that life alone wasn't easy. Doing what I had to do to get money. The factory had worked almost until my thirteenth birthday. Then I was caught stealing. I was asked to leave. I had to find work on my own then. I shuddered slightly at the memories. She lifted my chin.

"This dress is a present. A thank you, for all that you have done for me. I love you like a sister, and you will always be welcome to visit." She paused her voice cracking. I choked back sobs. Swallowing hard I looked up at her.

"What do you mean?" I questioned, fingering the dress. The fabric felt like water in my fingers. She took my hands into hers. There was a piece of paper in her hand. "This is my new address. We'll be only a few hours away by train. We'll be down in Virginia. Plus Mr. Stine's has family down there. If you ever need me no matter what, this is where you will find me." She kissed my forehead and pulled me into a hug. "Remember to smile."

I left shortly thereafter. I felt numb. I was alone again. Now I had friends, but the last attempt at a family was gone. I walked away from the house for the last time. It was late afternoon; the sun was past highpoint and slowly starting to fall. I felt my stomach in knots. I needed a drink. Mrs. Theresa had given me an advance on my pay, and a little extra to hold me over. The little extra would be good for a night of escaping. I figured I'd start at Tibby's. Whiskey had told me about it. Whiskey was a smart mouthed, quick witted, and tough. She had grown up practically on the streets, native to here. We had bonded quickly. My best friend. We met at a time where anything was done to put food in our stomachs, and alcohol in our blood. She liked Tibbys. Said it was a quaint little place. It was popular amongst the poorer. Plus, Filly would be in the area soon, trying to spy on Illusion. So food would be her second focus.

I opened the door with a bell ring. I glanced around the place. Newsboys were scattered around at tables, catching a quick bite before the evening edition. A few girls from the factories were there as well. My eyes stopped when I saw the back of Illusion's head. I slowly approached her. She was at a table of boys that I didn't know. I felt my guard rise.

"Illusion" I called in a sickening sweet voice. I smirked as I saw her go tense. It was like catching her being bad. The boy from this morning had shifted away from her. I cast a quick glance in his direction. She turned. Releasing her held breath she smiled in relief.

"Steel, thought ya were Filly. She's been runnin around all day causing amuck. Bulls almost caught her stealin a book. Ya know she's just goin to sell it to someone else later for the money. She ran as usual, Race over here, happened to be in her path. Helped her get into the lodgin house he stays at." Illusion paused as she smiled over at Race. I watched her carefully then focused my attention on this boy named Race.

"I'm Racetrack, most call me Race." He stood up, putting out his hand. I took it, shaking it tightly.

"Race, I'm Steel, nice to meet ya." I paused glancing at the other boys at the table. He looked away from me back to Illusion with a smile.

"Oh, and these boys! I work with 'em, live with 'em, this is Blink," he introduced me to the boy who wore an eye patch. He moved on to the quiet one at the table, he had slight buck teeth, and seemed shy. "This is Snitch, This is Mush." He stopped at the darker skinned man at the table. Mush's smile reminded me of a younger Mr. George. Race had pulled up a chair.

"Please, join us. We're just getting something to eat real quickly before the last effort to make a few." He laughed. The conversation of headlines, bets and track talk all restarted. I sat next to Illusion, nudging her with my elbow.

"Where did ya get this dress?" she whispered shocked, as she glanced in my satchel. I felt the tears sting my eyes again.

"It was a gift from Mrs. Theresa. She's leaving. She let me go today." I answered snidely; trying to bury the pain. Illusion gently touched my hand.

"Well figure it out Steel don't worry about it now." She reassured me. "There's always the mill, come to the factory with Filly and I." she paused knowing that it wasn't an option. I had been caught stealing from the boss; now my name was black listed at the factories. I wouldn't be able to find anything there. A chair was pulled up to the table. We paused in conversation, looking at the figure who was sitting at the table now with us. I immediately felt heat rise to my cheeks when I looked into the paper boy's eyes. It was Mr. George's paperboy. I gave a small smile.

"This here is Skittery," introduced Race. Skittery looked at me with a smirk. "Skitts this is Steel." He started.

"I know," Skittery interrupted. Race shrugged and turned his attention back to Illusion. Skittery looked at me a moment longer before starting to talk to the boy with the patch. Blink, I thought trying to remember a face to a name. I got lost in conversation as I ate. Oblivious to those around me I lost track of time as one by one everyone started to leave. When it was just Illusion, Race, Skittery and I, Illusion stood up.

"I think I better go find Filly. She says we have reason to celebrate." She smiled.

"Celebrate that she's not spending the night in jail." I responded callously. Illusion shot me a glance. I smirked as Race stood from his seat. Illusion tipped her head at me and winked.

"Meet around 8, at the Tavern?" she questioned. I nodded.

"I will need to find Whiskey." I added after a moment. Illusion nodded slowly. She had listened to me go on and on about this mysterious newsboy who now sat across the table from me. Illusion said her farewell with a wink, turning to leave, Race following suit.

After a moment of silence, I glanced back across the table at the handsome stranger who remained with me. He studied my face for a moment. I felt his eyes question my scar. I cleared my throat.

"Will you be joining us tonight?" I inquired casually. He looked me in the eyes for a moment before turning his attention to the wooden table.

"Is this an invitation?"

"If you wish it to be."

He looked back at me. I felt my face flushing again. He pondered the thought for a moment before nodding.

"Good, then I'll be seein' ya tonight then." I said as I stood. "but I must go take care of some things before hand."

I nodded a goodbye and quickly left the restaurant. I felt a rush as the cold evening air hit my skin I was excited. I quickly walked a few blocks away, rounding a corner. I took shelter in the nearest ally, taking a deep breath. Trying to keep my head straight and focus on my next task at hand. I needed to find an old acquaintance, someone who would help me find some money.

The sun had long since set as I entered Hell's Kitchen. During the day, the Kitchen seemed like any other borough, calm and peaceful. At night the atmosphere changed. The air was heavy with corrupt agendas and violence. I carried a switch blade as I entered the red triangle. The triangle of bars and brothels brought creatures of all sorts out into the night. Midnight's Dream was my destination, Death McCoy, a local runner, was known to frequent this spot. As I opened the door the smell of cheap perfume choked me. The lighting was poor and smoke hung in the humid air. No wonder these women wear so little clothing. I thought as I entered into the bar. It was hotter than a July summer day.

At the far corner of the bar sat a man of about six feet. He had a muscular build and I know tucked in the back of his pants was the gun he always carried. He had a lit cigarette and cheap brandy in front of him. I approached him carefully. I traced my fingertips across his shoulders as I wrapped my arms around him. I nestled my face into his neck. I could feel his skin get hot against my breath. His body tightened.

"Death McCoy," I whispered, "I need a favor."

Two drinks later, Death smiled as I laughed trying to forget about my current situation. He told me about life, how things were. He had moved up in the world, probably as much as he ever would. He was currently working for the Irish gang in the Kitchen. Opium was the new drug of choice and was a climbing market. Death was the person who was sent when the bills hadn't been paid. Meeting Death was usually the last thing you did. I shuddered slightly at the thought. He wasn't the boy I used to know. He had grown up. Strong chin, muscular cut. His blonde hair was long enough that it stood up everywhere, but not long enough to just hang. His eyes were black. The hazel color seemed to fade away into these pits. He showed little emotion now, but I could hear the warmness in his voice.

"So what can I do for ya Steel." He questioned me after the conversation dulled.

"I need some work." I responded quietly.

"Work?" he paused confused, "ya mean, ya want to…"

I nodded.

"Mrs. Theresa is leaving. She let me go today. I've been going through the streets to make extra income, but now, I need to work full time."

Death studied me for a moment. His eyes searched my face. He flicked the side of my neck quickly.

"That wasn't enough to scare ya away?" he asked. I scowled at him. The scar would always be a reminder of a time when the underworld controlled me. And now that I was reentering it fully, I wanted to be level headed this time.

"I made a mistake. I should have stayed business, but I didn't."

"Let me talk ta Joyce. She's the madam here now. She could use a new girl or two. Ya bringing Whiskey back with ya?" he smirked. I shook my head.

"Haven't seen Whisky yet to tell her." I responded annoyed. I just wanted him to help me. He pushed his stool away from the bar, motioning for me to wait as he left the room. Fifteen minutes later an older woman entered the room. She carried herself well. Head held high, a woman of power. She walked over to me reaching for my hand. I stood taking her hand into mine.

"Ms. Coit, I heard you were looking for a job?" she sang like a southern bell. I nodded.

"Yes Madam. I'm hardworking, will to work a lot, little to no complaining." I shrugged. She spun me around slowly. I felt her eyes search over my body for flaws.

"This dress says that you are a bit robust up here." She cooed, nodding to my chest.

"You can say I was blessed." I retorted with a bit of a snap. She studied me a moment longer then nodded.

"Well use make up for your neck, but your face is pretty if you smile. Your waist is small and tight, you're a bit shorter than most girls. But you'll do. You can help serve the drinks." I felt a small weight lift off my shoulders.

"Thank you! Thank you." I said again with a smile. Joyce smiled at me.

"Maybe something more with that smile. Be here later tonight. Around eleven. You'll start tonight." She said as she turned to Death. Death kissed her cheek and she exited from the room.

"Now don't you go losin ya temper and get ya self fired ya hear me." Death warned sternly. Looking him in the eyes I nodded.

"Thank you Death." I whispered as I pulled my body up against his. Once upon a time I would have given the world for this man, before he broke my heart when he left me for another. That had been when I was still almost a child. He was only a few years older then I. There still lingered an attraction, a physical attraction. He had been my first kiss. I felt his arms wrap around me as he held me tight.

"Be careful." He whispered. "Remember where you are now. Be smart, ya hear? Ya still got that knife?" I nodded my heart racing as his warm breath danced on my neck. My body was on fire. His fingers traced circles on my lower back as he held me. The brandy was heavy on his breath.

"Thank you Death." Responding finally I pulled away from him. I had to get back towards the outskirts of Manhattan to touch base with Whiskey, and make my promised appearance to Illusion. I walked to the door without looking back, pulling my shawl tighter around my shoulders as I stepped back into the January evening.

The sky was clear and the moonlight lit up the eerie streets. Walking past the alley I felt the hairs on my arms raise as I felt someone grab me from behind. Reaching for the blade I felt my left hand be ripped back down as my back and shoulders hit the rough brick wall. The eyes of my abductor met mine and the darkness of the night only brought out the blackness in his eyes. His lips were on mine, his body pushing me against the wall. I responded instinctively, fingers in his hair, my lips and tongue begging him for more. I remembered the taste of him as he pulled the dress up my right thigh. A moan escaping my lips as cold fingertips traced me gently. Then there were footsteps, and laughter. In the dimly lit street there were shadows of three girls traveling together. My name met my ears.

"…Steel…no…I haven't…she said…look for you…" was all I could make out. Death hesitated at my tense response. His hand left my thigh. Running my fingers through my hair I moved away from him.

"Steel…" he started.

'We shouldn't be doing this."

"Don't leave me."

I paused at the exit to the alley, back still turned to him; hesitating for only a moment before following the voices that spoke my name.

Sneaking up behind three girls in conversation was easy. I crept up behind the womanly figure with wavy auburn hair.

"Didn't anyone teach ya to watch your back?" I growled in a low deep voice. Whiskey tensed turning with a swing which I just barely escaped.

"Fuckin aye Steel. Don't be doing that!" she scolded me. The frown stayed on her face a moment before softening into a smile. "Talked to Mr. George today, said he's got a new filly for us to come and see. Says she's a real beauty. Chestnut in color." Whiskey had met Mr. George when we worked the streets together. I still had made a point of visiting him in the mornings on my way home from work. Whiskey who had worked with me, took quite a liking to Mr. George.

"Said they found a dead girl in the alley this morning." Cut in Filly.

"You heard that from Race!" shot in Illusion.

"I hear Illusion has crossed into the world of men…" Whiskey snickered. Illusion shot her a look.

"You coming tonight?" Filly asked changing the subject. I hesitated on answering that. They didn't need to know what new form of work I had picked up. Not all of them at least. Only Whiskey, who still worked the underground circuits, but more as a runner then anything at all.

"Not tonight Filly." I responded. "I have something to do. Sorry Illusion, I'll buy ya a round next time." Death's face burned into my mind, I felt my body grow hot. Whiskey studied me carefully. Illusion just shrugged.

"To bad, Skittery was looking forward to seeing you again." Illusion simply stated. Skittery, I had almost forgotten him. The way his soft brown eyes looked over me, the curve of his lips.

"Don't ya worry there Illusion, I think Steel can handle herself. You tell Skittery she'll see him again." Cut in Whiskey.

"Alright then ladies shall we head out there?" Illusion whined slightly annoyed at her delay in travel.

"I'll catch up with you two." Whiskey nodded towards Illusion and Filly. "Find me a man." She laughed.

An exchange of goodbye's separated the four into pairs. Waiting until out of earshot Whiskey turned on me.

"I can smell the perfume." Whiskey started sternly; looking at the ground I avoided her intense glare.

"Back off Whiskey, Mrs. Theresa is leaving. I gotta work. I have to be able to eat. Besides, Madam Joyce said Ill spend most of my time in the bar area serving drinks. I'm not what she normally hires." I responded. Whiskey studied me carefully.

"You see Death?" she inquired curiously. "I mean ya working back in the Kitchen. Ya know he's around here. You better keep an eye out for Nightmare. If he hears you're working the streets again, he'll come find you."

Nightmare; a name that I hoped I'd never hear again, a face that gave me chills, a feeling of fear that made my insides knot and the bitter taste of bile dance on my tongue. The man, who for years let me sleep in his bed, fed me, clothed me, protected me. All I had to do was what he said, deliver the messages he asked me to. Sleep with the man who paid the most. I shuddered at the thought.

"I'm serious Steel. Ya know better than anyone what he's capable of. You're back in his territory now. And you just aint sleepin here anymore."

We had walked a few blocks stopping in front of a pub.

"Drink?" she offered opening the door. I nodded, knowing alcohol would be what got me through the first few nights back in the underworld.

There was a piano playing, a woman singing, the once scarcely filled tables were now full. Women dressed scantly walked around the room serving drinks, men grabbing and touching, or were too focused on the poker game going on in front of them to pay any mind to the girls. I had been working here now a couple of weeks. I stayed to myself and for the most part avoided the men. I would make my money then leave. Tonight Madam Joyce was waiting for me near the office. She didn't have any clothing available. And tonight I would work in what I had on, with some readjusting. I wore a simple brown dress. Now Madam Joyce was adjusting it to work for tonight. She took blue ribbon and tied my hair loosely up off my neck. Then used pins as she pinned the skirt of the dress up shorter. She untied the top, readjusting, than retied the lace strings tighter, so much I felt I couldn't breathe. I felt myself falling out over the top of my dress. She studied my face a moment.

"No time for make up." She ushered me back in the hall. "You serve the drinks, if someone one chooses you, you come and fetch me. I'll negotiate then you finish your job." She nodded. Pausing a moment. "I took you in because Death turned in a favor I owe to him. I've heard of you Steel. I don't want any problems here." She warned, as she did every night.

Unable to breathe I nodded as I reentered the bar. It took only moments thanks to the alcohol in the early evening, to feel comfortable again. The bartender was always willing to slide a nerve calming drink behind the counter. I tried to remember back in the day where men and alcohol surrounded me on a daily basis. The hours passed quicker then I could have hoped for them to. There were always familiar faces, but tonight I recognized some newsboys later in the evening more boys from back in Manhattan.

Illusion we had practically lost to Race. Whiskey was still bouncing but there in Manhattan her attention was occupied. Filly had met her match. They were all out in Manhattan tonight. I had to work late, so they left. Which was why it was a shock to see some of the newsboys out here, this late at night? This was a decent venture for a late night trip. They must be staying out here in the Kitchen. To busy looking around the room that I startled when I recognized a voice.

"Mr. George said you were a good girl now." said a soft voice behind me. Turning slowly I met eyes with the newsboy.

"You're pretty far out for a Manhattan boy." I snickered.

"Pretty covered up for a brothel" he retorted quickly. I felt my eyebrow arch as I studied his face. A smirk curled up over his lips.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked him after a moment.

"Lucky guess; I grew up in the Kitchen, city is where I'm from, I travel the boroughs like you do." He paused a moment. "Whiskey said you weren't coming out again, that you were busy. The conversation was lacking, Race can't stay more than a foot from Illusion, and Filly was running amuck with Mush. Didn't think I would ever meet someone with at much energy as him. Whiskey was well drinking whiskey. Her and Jack were talking strategy about craps. The boys were all out. I didn't feel the need to be surrounded by groups of people. I ain't that kinda guy. Plus a friend was supposed to meet me up here tonight."

"What friend?" I asked curiously, surprised how his voice was so raspy but smooth.

"A guy by the name of Spot Conlon. We needed a night away from home. Didn't know this is where ya worked."

I flushed a deep shade of red, I felt embarrassed that he saw me here like this.

"No reason to be embarrassed, ya don't even know me, just act like I'm one of the customers." He smiled.

"You can't afford me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe…"I paused knowing that maybe it wasn't a good idea for me to challenge a man I had only met weeks ago, and had only a handful of conversations with. I was rusty on new line up of men in the area. The ones to stay away from, be wary of, or the ones you could shoot the air with and be okay.

"Heya Skittery!" someone called out across the bar. The accent was a rough Brooklyn one. The lips the words escaped from weren't what I was expecting. This man was handsome, tall and slender. He was lean; his hands were dirty, stained with ink from selling papers. I glanced down at Skittery's. His hands were the same.

"Until later…" Skittery whispered grabbing my hand and kissing it gently. He walked away, leaving me dumbfounded.

After a moment of shock I continued on my way, pairing up with a girl by the name of Relic. Relic's personality was similar to mine. We were short tempered, blunt, we'd challenge anyone to a drinking contest, but under the nasty hard shell, she was a nice person. She caught sight of the man who was with Skittery

"Ya know those boys?" she asked casually as we snuck out back for a smoke. I shrugged.

"You could say that. I've seen him around for years; I only just started talkin to 'im not too long ago."

"So ya don't know the boy he's with?" she asked slightly defeated.

"The one from Brooklyn, no I don't know him. He's good lookin' though. Definitely a handsome one." I giggled. Relic shook her head.

"I better make a move then, before one of these old hags in there steals him from me." She smirked dropping her cigarette, extinguishing it with her boot toe. She went towards the door.

"Hey, by the way, some man was in here lookin' for ya last night. I told him ya didn't work here. He didn't sit right with me." She paused.

"Was it Death?" I asked carefully. It couldn't have been Death. She knew Death. Relic worked part time as a runner for him. She was a good scout. What the people call over in Brooklyn, the Birds. Her long hair hung loosely in its bun. She shook her head.

"No, wasn't Death. He's been checkin' in on ya though. Just makin' sure ya okay." She smiled. "I think he likes ya." She added almost bitterly. She and Death were not together, but you could say they had spent many nights in each other's arms.

I scoffed. "Ya are kiddin' me. Death checkin in on me?"

"Don't laugh Ashleigh." She said quickly, using my name to show her seriousness. "Don't matter if he likes ya or not, what matters is that he's lookin out for ya. He just wants ta make sure Nightmare doesn't bother ya at all."

I studied Relic a moment. Though I hadn't gotten to know her until I had come to work here, I had heard her name a few times. I know she knew about everything that had happened. I barely remember when I stayed with Death as he took care of me. Apparently she had been there with Whiskey as well. I nodded.

"Ya right, its best if he does that, plus he gets to come see ya." I added smiling. I saw her cheeks twinge crimson.

"We better go back in!" She said opening the backdoor. "Joyce finds out that we aren't workin she'll take our cut of the money for wastin her time." I entered the door as she followed. Walking to the back room she grabbed a bottle. Holding it up in the air she smirked.

"Tonight, tonight we have fun." She giggled taking a swig. Taking the bottle from her I nodded my head slightly before tasting the whiskey burn my tongue.

It was even later than expected when we reentered the bar. I scanned the room for the newsboys. They were still at the bar drinking, conversing between each other. How was he going to be up to sell papers in the morning? I wondered. Lost in my own thoughts I felt a tug on my sleeve as Relic snapped me back to attention.

"I want him." She pointed at the Spot. I looked over at him, scanning him again. But my attention was distracted by Skittery. Skittery was receptive to everything in the room. Only seconds after looking him over, I glanced back and he was gone from his seat. Relic had replaced him, absorbing the other man's attention.

"So is this normal for you?" I asked out loud.

"What makes you think that?"

"You seem to be so comfortable here. You've only had a few drinks, yet you risk no bunk to sleep in tonight by being out."

"There are other bunks for me to sleep in. I know people out here. As well as Spot." He said nodding to the man who occupied Relic's attention. I smirked.

"Met her on the job, interesting character she is. Your boy seems to have taken a liking to her."

"Who wouldn't? She is stunning."

I glanced over at him quickly.

"Don't be jealous Steel,' he whispered. "You're far more beautiful."

I wasn't expecting that response. I felt my cheeks flush red. His hand took mine gently pulling me from the room. In the hallway he leaned against the wall, pulling me up to him. 

"Since the day I first laid eyes on ya, I've wanted ya. Mr. George filled my head with so many things about ya, I feel like I know ya already." He whispered softly to me. I bit my lip. 

"Only good things I hope." Was all I could force myself to say. His forehead rested against mine before he gently kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to separate from his velvety lips. He chuckled breaking the kiss. I scrunched my nose up and shook my head.

"Don't laugh!" I said almost insulted. He shook his head.

"I'm not laughing at you." He reassured me. Shaking my head I led him to the office where Madam Joyce seemed pleasantly shocked to see me standing with a man.

After a moment of necessary transactions I led him down the dingy dark hallway.

Opening the door for me he waved me in first. I felt awkward, uneasy. Here was a man who I had seen for the last few years, never spoken to, but was somehow connected to him through Mr. George and now Illusion. He pulled me into his arms again by gently grabbing the point of the elbows.

"For years, you've been this mystery Steel, always stopping to see Mr. George, consistently caring for the old man. The smile on your face, the fragility of you, you're so secretive but yet so aware. You intrigue me." He whispered softly.

Heart racing in my chest, fingertips gently traced his jaw line from his ear to his chin, passing over his lips. Kissing the fingers as they traced his lips he tightened his grip on me pulling me close to him. His lips touched mine. Heat radiated through me like fire. His kiss was sweet and gentle. Wrapping my arms around his neck again I leaned in begging for more. Lifting me up and resting me on the bed, he kissed me again, this time intensely. His hands were sliding up my thighs. Quivering I felt my breath catch in my chest as he caressed me. I felt the warm seductive moan leave my lips. He could feel me respond to his touch systematically as he explored me. Untying my lace, my body became exposed. Pulling down the suspenders, I hurriedly pulled off his shirt. My hands met a muscular warm body. He kissed my neck roughly, biting softly as he began a trail down past my naval. My back arched begging for him to touch me more. With one hand he gently held me down. He let his hand wander as he kissed my body. I felt myself respond automatically. I pulled and arched, begging him to touch me more. He enveloped me in his arms as he slid into me. A gasp escaped my lips as together we became one. He didn't leave my arms after that moment for the rest of the night.

As the sun broke through the window I rolled over in the bed expecting him to be there. There was no one. I felt a slight sting in my stomach. Business, this is just business I reminded myself. I was lucky to have such a good night, when the others consisted of gross older men. I pulled the worn quilt up close to my chest. The air was cold and smelt of snow. I rubbed my face, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"Mornin' Steel." Cooed a familiar voice. Frozen I refused to look into the corner next to the door. That's where the voice had originated from.

"How did you get in here?" I forced out. My voice felt weak.

"No matter on how I got in here. Did you really think I wouldn't find out that you are home?" he asked darkly.

"It wasn't any of your concern, you know I was already living here, I just found work closer to home." I paused choosing my words carefully.

"Heard the old tramp got knocked up, left ya high and dry, and you came back to Death lookin for a favor. You get it there? You get your favor?" he growled.

"Death has nothing to do with this!" I spat. "I needed work!"

"Then you should have come to me. Death works for me now. You need something you come to me Ashleigh! You know better! Don't make me find Whiskey to tell her the same."

"You stay away from her! She has nothing to do with anything anymore!" I growled.

The voice grew into a face as Nightmare stepped out of the corner. He walked slowly to the bed. I sat quietly, tense waiting to react. Nightmare was about six feet two inches. He was stocky well built with a volatile temper. Anyone is the underground knew his name. Raised in a family of crooks, he topped them all. He was a well known borough leader. He had the bulls feeding out of his hands and he had the business owners never questioning him. He had short brown hair, brown eyes with a slight tan complexion. Nightmare rounded the corner of the bed. His hand was in my hair before I could respond, even prepare. He ripped my head back. I fought back the yelp that desperately wanted to escape my lips.

"Ashleigh Coit, when you swore to me you'd be mine, I held you to that. I let you go with a warning, apparently that scar wasn't enough of a reminder." He paused for a moment. "I'll be watching you Ashleigh."

He snapped my head back forward, tears stinging my eyes. He left abruptly, slamming the door behind him as he left. I sat in the bed a moment longer before pulling on my clothes and running from the room.

I didn't even pick up my money. I was on the street in moments running as quickly as I could back to the lodging house. The cobblestones were slick under my feet, sliding and spinning I tried to take a corner to fast, instead my knees connected to the ground.

"Damn it." I muttered as I stood on my shaking legs. Fresh cuts were on both knees, bruises already starting to form. I kept my pace at a steady walk as I the lodging house came into my view. I slid in the side kitchen entrance, before taking the old wooden stairs two at a time to the four bed room. Throwing open the door and slamming it behind me.

"Steel! Knock next time!" screamed Illusion as she pulled a blanket over the lump in the bed.

My face flushed red as I hurried to the washroom. I heard a male's voice and chills crept down my back. I began to fill the sink with the ice cold water, hoping to wake from some nightmare. There was a knock on the door and it slowly opened and closed behind someone. I didn't even want to look. But when I felt the gentle grasp of a hand on my shoulder my body loosened. I turned around staring into Illusion's concerned eyes.

"You alright, Steel?" she asked carefully studying my face. I searched her face for a reason to tell her, an excuse to let her know what had happened, but by bringing her in, I only put her in danger. She was too innocent to be involved. She knew now, what I had returned to, but her job was in a factory, not the streets. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'm fine."

The door opened again and Race popped his head in.

"Ladies, I have reason to be concerned you see." He paused a moment waiting for us to push him out. Without resistance from either of us he pushed open the door further. "Ya alright Steel? You look a mess."

"Shut it Race." Illusion snapped. I shook my head at her then glanced at him.

"I'm fine Race, just took a spill, got spooked and ran, that's all." I blushed trying to shrug off the image of Nightmare's face.

"We're going to the track today, if you care to join. It's Sunday and no good Catholic would be at the tracks but me." He grinned. I forced a chuckle. I could see how his kindness attracted Illusion's sweet nature.

"It would be a pleasure Race, but now, if you excuse me, I should get cleaned up." I finally managed a real smile.

"Good, because if you go, than I can get Whiskey to come as well. Jack's been asking about her. Filly is out roaming the streets with Mush, he's trying to teach her to sell papes. So now Jack won't feel as awkward." He paused; with a tip of his head he exited the washroom.

"You alright Ashleigh?" Illusion asked again, forcing me to acknowledge her with the use of my real name. I stared at her numbly and nodded.

"I'm okay. I promise." I said weakly with a smile. She didn't buy it, but she knew she wouldn't get any further and left the washroom. When the door clicked shut, my stomach emptied its contents into the sink and I stood there shaking, as the bitter taste of bile stung my tongue.

I sat there as the water washed the rest of the sink clean. I let my head rest on my arms on the cheap sink. I kept my eyes closed almost unwilling to reopen them. Lost in my thoughts I failed to realize that I had acquired new company. I could smell the smoke from a cigarette.

"Why didn't ya come find me?" Whiskey asked slowly. I ignored her question and kept my head on the sink. "What happened? Bad customer last night?" she asked again, refusing to be ignored.

"Did you tell him?" I snapped standing up quickly. She looked taken aback. "How the hell did he know? Who told him I was working again! How did he find me?" I snarled at her.

Whiskey glared at me ready to continue a fight when her face loosened slightly, as she began to realize who the person on conversation was.

"He found you? I don't know, I really, I mean I don't know how he did that." She said softly. "Maybe one of the boys knows him, I mean they are newsboys, they are always roaming all over, maybe one of them knew you, and they know him and one day unmeaning ya name was used." Whiskey paused. "Do ya think Death told him?"

"He better not have, all I know is that Nightmare knows where I work, he knows I'm back working the streets and he's not happy about it." I said as I rubbed my neck and chest unconsciously. Whiskey mimicked my actions subtly as her fingers traced her neck.

"Come to the track; let's forget about it for a while." She suggested with a shrug. "You can't do anything about it, he knows now. He'll be keeping an eye on ya as long as you don't go and piss him off he'll probably just watch from the shadows. Why not take the night off, you've been working nonstop for the last two weeks anyways. Go tell Joyce ya can't work tonight, she'll probably understand."

I stared at her a moment, then pulled my hair back off the nape of my neck. Tying it loosely with string, locks fell over my face. "You're right." I nodded. She was right. First I had to get out of these clothes, than I'd walk back and talk to her. Whiskey held her hand out to me, which I took gently.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up. Race and Illusion left. Filly is out with Mush. Can you believe she's going to sell papes! That's crazy!" Whiskey laughed trying to lighten the conversation. I smiled.

"Yea! That's what Race said! Can ya believe how Illusion has taken to Race!" I giggled. "She's smitten! I betchya Filly's got her eye on Mush! Mr. George said the other day that she brought him with her to see the colt he was sizing!" I paused. "Heard ya got your eye on Jack!" I squealed hitting her softly. Her face flushed red.

'I do not!" she retorted quickly. I nodded knowingly with a smile.

"Come on, let's get some lunch, stop by and see Mr. George." I suggested. "Then we can make our walk towards Manhattan."

Whiskey smiled shyly. "So you're coming then?"

I nodded. "Sure, and be the odd one out!" I giggled as she blushed slightly again. She threw the somewhat clean black pants at me as she walked out of the room.

The walk would be a cold one it was mid February now, near the 14th. The air was cool, crisp, it smelt like snow still. I loved snow it was so peaceful, so beautiful. I pulled the thin layers tighter around me. Whiskey's nose was already a bright red. We picked up four apples on the way to seeing Mr. George. There were apples for us, Mr. George and whatever horse he had for the morning. Whiskey seemed lost in thought during the walk; we were silent as we approached the carpenter's shop.

"G'mornin!" we chimed together loudly behind the old man. He let out a startled yelp jumping slightly.

"Ladies!" he exclaimed hand over his heart, "you're going to be the death of me one day!" he laughed. We smiled in response as Whiskey handed over an apple.

"You got any horses today?" Whiskey inquired poking around behind him. Mr. George smiled as he waved for us to follow. He led us to the small holding stall located next to the large lumbering carriage. A luxury for the rich, I scoffed. He slid open the stall door. "This here is a beaut!"

The horse was stunning. She was large, well rounded muscularly, deep brown coat with black shiny mane and tail. I let my eyes study her every curve as I bit a piece off the apple, the sweet juice running down my chin. I spit the apple piece back into my hand. The mare looked over at me with milky brown eyes. I held it out to her. Her warm lips tickled my hand with her whiskers as she stole the piece. I let Whiskey talk to Mr. George. I was too busy thinking about the moment in the bedroom. How calm Nightmare had been, then how quickly he had become irate. I shuddered slightly as I took another bite of apple, spitting it into my hand and feeding the mare. She chewed slowly, watching me carefully. I stared back at her. Nightmare had almost killed me. He told me to leave town, that I shouldn't show my face again here. Maybe he had matured a bit maybe this incident was his way of letting me know that he was watching me, and to stay out of his way. But there was something about his anger that made me uneasy it was almost as if he were waiting for me to come back. As if it was only a matter of time, and then he would finish what he had started. He could have killed me before, but he didn't. I still didn't know why.

"Steel?" I heard a firm voice. It was Whiskey, bringing me back from my thoughts. I looked over at them. Their faces showed concern.

"Ya feelin okay miss? You seem pale." Mr. George said softly. I nodded and forced a smile.

"I'm okay! Just daydreaming!" I smiled at him. Whiskey was watching me carefully. "You ready to make the walk?" I asked her trying to change the focus off of myself. She nodded and turned to hug Mr. George.

"Stay warm! Ya hear! It's going to be cold next couple of days!" she smiled. Mr. George hugged her and then pulled me into a giant bear hug.

"You girls stay out of trouble!" he chuckled.

We began the walk to the track. Meeting up with the two lovebirds wasn't much for my taste, but Illusion was excited about him, and who was I to diminish that? I smiled softly feeling a pang of jealousy for her current affair. Whiskey seemed to feel the same way.

"Ya think those two will last?" Whiskey asked with a grin. I shrugged.

"They haven't left each other's side since they met! Heard that she's been sneaking into the lodging house where they stay!" I grinned.

"One day it will be us." Whiskey said wistfully.

"Looks like ya already have ya attention on one."

Whiskey kept looking forward but her cheeks grew redder.

"Ah, Jack Kelly. He's like their leader. Tall, smart, handsome. Who'd think I'd ever like someone with an ego like his!"

"Because he reminds you of yourself!"I laughed as we walked up to the track. Illusion, Race and Jack were all standing out front. Race was clearly mad, Illusion looked annoyed and Jack was just ignoring them.

"Is something wrong?" Whiskey asked with a sense of sarcasm in her voice. She was a bit more jealous then I was evidently.

"The track is closed! Said the ground is too hard! Horses will break their legs!" griped Race. Illusion rolled her eyes. Jack laughed.

"Can't get ya gamblin' fix tonight, can ya Race?" Jack grinned.

"We told him it wasn't a big deal, but he's mad, says it's stupid, it's not that cold." complained Illusion, "Now he won't stop complaining."

"This is how I pay for everything!" he groaned putting his hands to his face. I couldn't help but laughed. Oh these men and their gambling.

"I suggested we go to Medda's for a show tonight instead! A few of the other boys are going, I think it would be fun, and it's warm in the place!" Jack said rubbing his hands together. I glanced at my side to find that Whiskey had left me to join Jack. I shrugged.

"Works for me."

Jack smiled, "Good! Then lets head on over that way, it's an early show, we can grab a drink afterwards!"

He seemed happy with himself as he turned and began to walk away. He led Whiskey by her hand, Illusion and Race followed steps behind. I glanced up at the racetrack sign, the lettering was starting to fade. I sighed slightly and followed suit behind the two lovely couples.

The theatre was large there was a balcony, a stage. Before you even got into the sitting area there was a bar. The place was packed. People of all types were milling around searching for seats.

"Over here!" called a familiar voice. Filly's voice carried over the dull roar. She waived frantically from a perch. I laughed when I realized she was sitting on someone's shoulders.

"That's Mush?" I asked Race. Race nodded. "Good man he is. I betchya she's goin move on out here and work with us by the time summer comes around. Mush and her have just been disappearing for days."

"I say they will be married by fall." Continued another male voice. I glanced over my shoulder at the source. My body engulfed in a sudden warmness, my eyes met Skittery's.

"Married? Filly would make the perfect wife." I smiled. With all of the morning's chaos, and the blurry afternoon, I had forgotten about the prior night. I felt myself blush as I remembered his lips on my neck, his hands on my skin. He smiled, his hand touching the small of my back.

"Care to join us?" he asked rhetorically as he ushered me to a seat. We were in the balcony away from those with money. I recognized a few faces from before. I remembered Blink, the eye patch, and Snitch the quiet one. Both had said their hellos. As the lighting grew dark, the talking dulled to silence as a woman's voice filled the bellows of the theatre. The melody sent shivers down my spine. She walked out onto stage, the spotlight on her. The Swedish meadowlark was exactly what she was. Her full red curls framed her delicate face a voice so beautiful came from such a tiny frame. The boys were mesmerized. Well most of them.

I felt a hand touch mine halfway through the show. I could see the ink on his fingers, which were calloused and worked. They had softness to them. Gently I let my fingers intertwine with his, never breaking my line of sight from the beautiful woman. His hand was warm, it was firm, and it was comforting.

"Tibby's for a drink?" asked an excited Blink after the performance. I was so happy. Everything was happy. There was laughter in the air, dancing in the aisles. Filly shot me a smile, sticking her tongue out at me as she bounded out of her seat towards the stairs.

"Bet ya Race I can beat ya to Tibby's!" she called over her shoulder as she ran. Race ripped the cigar out of his mouth taking off after her. Whiskey was laughing. She was really laughing. Her hard exterior was letting the real Whiskey slightly come through. The rest of us followed at a slower pace as the rest of the crowd had mostly exited. It seemed lighter outside then it should have. The air was a bit warmer than before.

"Watch out Steel!" a quick yell came as I stepped out the door. I spun around looking towards the voice when a giant snowball hit me in the arm. I started laughing when I looked around. There was snow everywhere! The clouds hung heavy in the air with more. The lamps of the buildings and street lights danced off the snow lighting up everything. I bent down scrambling to ball snow up. I let one go as I aimed it for Race. Connecting with the back of his head he spun around laughing grabbing more snow. It took only moments before snow was flying. Skittery had Blink in a choke hold while Jack shoveled the snow down Blink's shirt. Filly was throwing just handfuls of snow at whoever she could. Whiskey had just been put down in the snow by Snitch, when she grabbed Illusion's hand as she fell, pulling Illusion into the bank of snow as well. I couldn't stop laughing, running around I climbed up onto a street pole to get a better aim for a shot when I saw him.

Death stood about two blocks away, he wasn't alone. I couldn't make out who he was with, but he didn't look happy. He didn't stay long as he turned to walk away, Skittery grabbed me around the waist picking me up, holding me in the air. I let my head hang back as I laughed. While Skittery spun me around, I could see Death leaving. I was curious to know why he was out here, but tonight I was happy. I didn't want anything to ruin this.

The walk to Tibby's was short, but full of flying snowballs, or someone pushing another into the snow banks that were piling up. Tibby's was warm and inviting, the food was filling and the drinks left everyone a bit loose.

"We walkin back tonight?" Whiskey asked me at one point as dinner ended. I looked at her a moment, the thought had never really crossed my mind.

"No!" answered Filly. She smiled. "Tonight well stay here at the lodging house. Illusion has stayed here and so have I. We'll be fine. No one will hurt us out here! Look at all of these men!" she laughed slinging her arm around Mush.

The lodging house was larger than our own. The rooms were also full of bunks. There was one large washroom. It was cozy. In the center the room was open with a table where cards were strewn about, most likely from a late night poker game. It was warm, and as the boys filled the room it grew in warmth from the company. The bunks were all marked and slowly they began to fill as the large group entered. The younger ones climbed into bed, and a few boys took seats at the table. A card game was beginning. Whiskey, Jack, and Race along with Snitch and Blink fought over who'd deal first. Mush and Filly were curled up in his bunk, just watching everyone, adding to the conversation when necessary. Illusion lay perched in Race's bunk waiting for his early return to the bed. I sat on a nearby bunk, just taking everything in. This is what a family was. Sure there were bickering from time to time, but together this room was full of happiness and love. Something I could get used to. I felt a small smile tickle my lips. A blanket fell into my lap from above. Glancing up I looked into Skittery's playful eyes.

"Come with me." He smiled, "and bring the blanket."

He dropped down from the bunk and walked into the washroom. Following him curiously he opened the door of the washroom ushering me in. Closing it swiftly he shuffled to the window prying it open.

"After you madam." He smiled coyly. I climbed out the window onto the fire escape. He followed suit leading me to the rooftop. He cleared a small area in the corner and put the blanket down. I didn't wait for him to sit before plopping to the far left. He sat beside me, keeping some distance between us. He handed me a cigarette, lighting his then mine. The smell of sulfur stung my nose. We sat in silence smoking. I was absorbed by the stars from the patches visible between the fluffy clouds.

"Steel." He started quietly. "Mr. George tells me you grew up in the Kitchen." He stated. I nodded inhaling slowly. He paused a moment before continuing. "How long have ya known him? I see ya almost every morning saying hello. At least for the last few years I have."

"Mr. George, he's an old family friend. Lived in the same building as I was when I was growing up. Taught me to read. He's a good man." I smiled at the thought of his smiling wrinkly face. "I heard you were from the Kitchen to."

"The Kitchen is my home, I can't deny that. Made me the way I am." He smiled. "There's a reason they call me Skittery." I couldn't help but smile. "Why do they call ya Steel?"

"Steel, well." I felt a slight lump in my throat. I had forced Mrs. Theresa out of my head. "A friend. When I was younger, said she couldn't break my stubbornness, she called me Steel, I was unbendable. She was the daughter of my Pa's boss. She was like my big sister." I felt my voice catch for a moment. Skittery moved closer.

"Ya know I can understand that. I've known Mush since I was a boy. We grew closer when I came out here to sell papes." He grinned. I smiled over at him. He kept his eyes locked on mine for a moment. He cleared his throat.

"Why do you work there?" he asked bluntly. I wasn't really ready for his question. I turned away from him.

"I didn't mean to offend you, I just don't really know how to talk to…well…girls." He said his voice shook slightly. I sat silent for a moment.

"I didn't have a choice. I need to make money. I know how to make money that way. There are things about me that I don't tell people. I didn't want to go back to it, but when Mrs. Theresa left, I had no choice." I said almost frantically. His hand gently touched my forearm, slowly lowering it back to my side.

"Okay, okay." He soothed. He forced a laugh. "Next subject then."

I felt stupid, embarrassed. I hated when I did that, those stupid outbursts. I pouted a moment. Skittery gingerly draped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into the crook of his shoulder. Every muscle still tense in my body I slowly relaxed.

"Why do you sell papers?" I asked after a few moments of silence. He shrugged indifferently.

"It makes money." He paused, "I also don't want to worry about clothes on my back or food in my stomach. I know what roads there were, and this seemed like the best possible solution."

"I don't understand why you aren't in a factory. With your build, you could do what Mr. George does. Or the blacksmiths maybe." I responded slightly confused.

"I did, for a while. Let's say I took a shot at each of my choices. One worked out to well, the other not so much, so I ended up being a newsie. I enjoy the freedom. I work hard; I sell my papers and save me money.

"You work for Nightmare?" I asked venom on my tongue. I felt Skittery's body tense next to mine, but he didn't pull away.

"For some time." He answered carefully. He chewed on the inside of his lip. "Let's just say it was the one that I liked a little too well." He smirked. He let my hand drop as he played with the snow before us. I pulled my knees to my chest wrapping my arms around my legs, shutting myself in.

"But here I got family." He laughed as he pushed a handful of snow into my face. I laughed as the cold stung my cheeks and nose. I responded by pushing him away. Quickly grabbing for a handful of snow shoveling it down the back of his shirt, I attempted to get away. He let out a bellow of a laugh. His arms enveloped me as he pulled me onto the snow. Laughing I let myself lean against him. We lay there a moment. His arms felt good around me, in a comforting sort of way.

"Wanna go for a walk?" he whispered softly. I nodded as I pulled myself out of his arms. The air was brisk without his body heat. Grabbing the blanket he ushered me back down the fire escape and inside.

"Stay here and warm up. I'm goin grab a few things. Then we'll head out." He whispered as he tiptoed into the now almost silent lodging room.

I followed him to the door, scanning the room for the three girls who I called my best friends. Snitch's leg hung over the bunk, dangling over Race's bunk where he and Illusion were soundly asleep. I let my eyes wander from bunk to bunk. Filly and Mush were intertwined into one person almost, sharing what little of the blanket there was. The only ones awake were Whiskey and Jack. They sat in the top bunk in a corner. Jack's back was against the wall at the head of the bed, Whiskey sat between his legs her back against his chest. A blanket kept them both warm.

"You going somewhere Skitts?" asked Jack quietly from his perch. Skittery continued to grab an extra shirt and thin jacket.

"Just going out into the snow for a while Jacky boy." He responded calmly.

"Ya takin' Steel?" inquired Whiskey in a guarded tone.

"I'm goin with him." I answered her. She turned her attention to me in the dark room. Only the moon from the clearing sky was source of light.

"Be safe." She warned carefully. Her tone held a peculiar sound of apprehensiveness. I backed into the washroom as Skittery approached.

"Put this on." He instructed as he pulled yet another shirt on himself. I looked at the worn coat and pulled it over my shoulders.

"Let's go" he smiled taking my hand leading me back out the window. From the fire escape we walked down reverse of what we did earlier, dropping the last few feet to the ground.

His hand cupped mine again our fingers intertwined as he led me down the street. We were walking towards the Kitchen.

"You think she's alright?" asked Jack again carefully after noticing Whiskey's change in body language.

"Yea, I just don't think dey should be out walkin the streets this late at night." She said slightly annoyed.

"She's wit Skitts, she'll be alright." Jack tried to reassure her. Whiskey shook her head instinctively.

"No?" Jack questioned, "why not."

Whiskey could have kicked herself for her reaction. But it was just that, a reaction. There was nothing she could have done to control it.

"No reason. I just don't like 'er out wanderin the streets that's all." Whiskey whispered back, trying to be nonchalant.

"You're lying. I can tell, ya body is all tight, ya seem uncomfortable now." Jack retorted sitting her up. He straightened his back, turning Whiskey to look at him.

"Ya run off all da time, ya always say she's gonna come out, but she never does. Is there something we should be worried bout?" Jack asked carefully studying her.

A moment of tense silence lingered in the air between the two of them. Whiskey wanted nothing more than to retreat into her nasty street self. Except for the fact that her heart skipped when she saw him, and when he kissed her it tingled down to her toes.  
>"There's this man, Nightmare. He works out in da Kitchen. She'll kill me if she knows ya know." Whiskey added slightly panicked. "She used to work for him. He left that scar on her! As long as she's not workin the streets he leaves her alone, he's too busy ta notice. But the moment she lost her job and she came back. He knew. He let her feel comfortable, than he showed up this morning. He was there." Whiskey said as tears brimmed her eyes.<p>

The night years ago flooded her memories. She shook her head trying to forget the nightmares. She felt herself tremble.

"He could kill her." She whispered softly. "He has every reason to."

Walking silently hand in hand, the closer they were to the Kitchen, the more she loosened her grip from his hand. He had noticed, but tried to think nothing of it. They were a few blocks out from Hell's Kitchen when they heard voices.

"A drunk probably." Skittery reassured at the tension he felt in the air. I nodded, why I was so uncomfortable, I didn't know. This was the evening of perfection. Sighing slightly I felt myself relax as we continued to walk. The voices grew louder the further down the street we ambled. As we passed the entrance of a local bar, two men sat outside on the step. Death's voice stung my ears like a bee.

"That you Ashleigh?" he slurred. "Quite a risk wanderin da streets dis late!"

I felt my body tense as I kept walking. Fox, the boy next to him laughed. His ginger colored hair hung in his eyes and the freckles on his face seemed to bounce in mockery as he laughed. I felt rage boil inside of me.

"She's safe wanderin da streets! But as soon as Nightmare hears dat she's out with a man, ya know he'll find 'er."

Rage overcame me. I wretched myself away from Skittery, pulling my switchblade out of my pocket and grabbing Fox's shirt. I used my body weight to push him against the wall and street. I let the awkward angel be of use to me.

"Say it again Fox." I growled challenging him. Skittery stayed back a moment, watching confused, studying the two men. Fox whimpered slightly. Death just started to laugh. Blood boiling I let my hand fly connecting with his cheekbone. Death raised quickly to his feet my hand already almost numb from his tight grip he now had on my wrist.

"You know better." He hissed lowly. I could smell the brandy thick on his breath. Fox wretched away from me, stumbling to his feet he went quickly into the shadows and out of sight.

I didn't let my eyes leave the glare of Death's. Now Skittery was behind me attempting to pull me away.

"Look, we don't need any trouble." Skittery said calmingly to both of them. Death's intense gaze never left my face as he responded to the voice.

"Sean you stay outta this." He growled lowly. What? I felt confusion take over my face. The surprise was evident because Death sneered.

"Didn't know I knew him did ya?" he cooed softly, low enough for just me and him to hear him.

"I offered ya a home, ya took Nightmare's. I nursed ya back ta health, ya left me for Theresa. I get ya a job, and ya thank me by goin after me best friend." He snarled. I just stared at him blankly, at a loss for words.

"Ya think ya know, but ya don't. Just because ya left the streets fulltime don't mean that things didn't change while ya were gone. I recommend ya get ya things, and stay the hell outta the Kitchen ya hear? Or there well be consequences."

I wretched my arm out of his grasp. Skittery approached me from behind. His hand touched my arm.

"Com-"he started. I pulled away from him like fire.

"Don't you touch me?" I hissed. I looked between the two men who stood before me.

"Ya knew, didn't ya, this whole time, well I hope ya had fun. Enjoyed da ride." I clumsily searched for two bits. When successfully finding one, I threw it at Skittery. Anger boiled in my blood. "What else do ya know?" I wanted to scream. I pulled his jacket from my body throwing it into the snow. I turned my attention to Death.

"You…you…I lied for ya!" I hissed. "Ya told Nightmare what I was doing. Did ya tell him bout Skittery to!" I felt my stomach churn as the bile began to sting the back of my tongue. Death now seemed surprised.

"No. I never mention ya to Nightmare…Ash…I wouldn't do that." He almost stammered, his hand reaching blindly towards me. I backed away glaring at both men who stood before me.

"I never want to see either of ya again, ya hear." I cried frantically, desperately trying not to show the pain that stung my eyes as tears. Neither man moved, neither knew what to say to calm me, to be rational. Backing away slowly I kept my blade out in my hand, just in case they followed. Once a good few yards were between us I turned my back to them, walking out of the light into an alley. Once I was sure I wasn't being followed I went towards Mr. George's one horse stable. It would be my sanctuary for the night.

Death stood on the stair, the world spinning.

"Ya are killin me Skitts." Death muttered defeated as he let himself plop to the ground.

"I didn't know Death. I didn't know that's who Ashleigh was." Skittery said in his defense sitting down next to Death in the snow. "I've seen her for years, after everythin happened. I didn't know it was her. She worked for some woman." He paused. "I know nothing bout her. She's beautiful. That's all I know."

"When Nightmare finds out, ya know he's goin to come lookin for ya." Death answered slurring.

"I know." Skittery answered solemnly. He had known that for a while, which is why he had been so careful about their interactions. It had taken all his self-control to wait to go to the brothel after the few random meals she had shared with the newsboys.

"She's beautiful."

"She's poison." Death spat bitterly. The two men sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts when they heard someone approaching. Neither cared to respond, both knew it wasn't Steel. For at least the night she was gone.

"Death McCoy, ya try again and again, yet ya fail every time." Someone snickered. The voice was someone they didn't want to deal with at that moment. Death chose not to respond.

"Ya work for me now Death. Ya should have told me. And you, Skittery; are ya stupid? Really now. You're just dumb and glum! Ya think she can solve ya problems she won't." sneered Nightmare.

Skittery avoided the icy gaze from the man who stood before them.

"Nightmare, I didn't know she was ya goil. I didn't. I've seen 'er around, if I had known I would have stayed outta the way." Skittery said anger building. Why was it when something good came along, it got stripped away from him. Whiskey was going to kill him.

"Back off Nightmare."Snapped Death standing up. Nightmare turned his attention to the staggering man in front of him. Nightmare steadied him by placing a firm hold on his shoulder. He twitched slightly.

"I will deal with ya later. Clean ya self up, ya look like shit." He muttered shaking his head. Letting go of Death's shoulder he cocked back and swung. Nightmare's fist connected with Death's jaw, the blow knocking him nearly over, from the little balance that he had had. Nightmare turned and walked off. He followed the foot prints. Steel was next on his agenda.

Skittery bent down to help Death up.

"Come on; come back to the lodgin house tonight." Skittery offered. "Ya won't solve anything tonight, ya can't even stand up straight." Pausing, he took a deep breath.

"Fine." Said Death defeated. He had no fight left in him. What had he done? He just handed Steel over on a silver platter to the man who wanted to silence her forever.

Shocked slightly by the no resistance from the drunken man, Skittery began the walk back to Manhattan. With a new person, who was drunk, and minus the one he promised to return. He sighed rubbing the back on his neck. He knew there would be hell to pay for this.

The stall was dark, but warm. The horse's body gave off more heat then I had expected. Grabbing a handful of feed, I made my way into the stall. The feed smelt of molasses and oats. My hand would be sticky, if the horse didn't lick it clean. The whiskers searched out of the dark, the velvety black lips sucked a bit of the feed. Once feeling safe enough the dark bay stepped from the shadow and slurped up the rest of the sweet oats. Whiskers were left tickling my hand. Sighing, I sat down in the straw. What was going on? How could Skittery done this? Death had betrayed me to Nightmare. Now Nightmare would know. He would be looking for me. I was his girl.

He had spared my life because I had promised to walk away, to not come back. To stay away from the underground and those associated with it. Or he would make sure to silence me so he wouldn't have fear of me spilling my mouth. Shuddering at the thought, I adjusted my knees to my chest as I put my head down into my hands. I cried. They were sobs first, before slowing dwindling to steady tears, then just sniffling. My body was tired. I feared the appearance of Nightmare. I wanted Skittery's comforting hold. I hated Death. Pulling some of the straw that wasn't being eaten into a small pile I made a bed. Mr. George would be here in the morning, he would wake me.

Walking slowly beside the drunken man, Skittery smoked a cigarette deep in thought.  
>"What happened Death." Skittery asked, he had heard the rumors, but he knew Death knew the truth. Death was drunk enough to let some information slip through.<p>

"What do ya mean what happened? Ya know what happened." He retorted with a snort.

"All I know is dat she was in da wrong place at da wrong time." Skittery responded nonchalantly.

"Dat ain't how it was." Death paused. "Ya really don't know? Ya worked with me cleanin it up!" He said somewhat shocked. Skittery shook his head slowly. Death paused a moment, then held his hand out for a cigarette. After taking one from Skittery he lit it, making sure to enjoy the first long drag off the sweet tobacco.

"She found 'im in bed wit another goil. It was the alcohol, da abuse, she snapped. She took the clothes threw them in da fire place. Let 'em burn. Den she took Nightmare's gun. Fool left it on the table away from da bed she held it to the side of his head. Instead of pulling the trigger on him she turned to da goil. Now she never said a word. No one knows what went through her head. But she pulled da trigger. Da bullet didn't kill 'er. Just hit her in da shoulder." Death paused inhaling deeply on the cigarette. "She froze, den Nightmare was on her. They wrestled for da gun. It went off two more times. Dis time it hit da goil. Nightmare said dat it blew 'er head clean off."

Growing uncomfortable as he started to remember cleaning the mess, Skittery licked his lips nervously. Death seemed to remember too as the color drained from his face. Stopping and leaning over Death emptied the remainder of the brandy in his stomach onto the snow. Skittery stayed silent.

"Ya don't know who killed da goil?" Skittery asked. Death shook his head wiping his mouth with the corner of his sleeve.

"Da problem was was that she was a goil of upper class. People would talk bout her missin. Nightmare sent for me. I took 'er body to da river wit Fox. Dat's when I came for ya. We cleaned da room; I burned most of da sheets. After ya left, I lit da place on fire."

"What happened to Steel? Why didn't Nightmare kill 'er?"

"Because somewhere deep in dat twisted sick mind of his, 'e loved er." Death stated.

"Ya, but he hoit her." Skittery responded rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh he hoit her alright. I found 'er in an alley a few days later. I don't think ya could see her skin color. She was black and blue. Her clothes stained wit blood. She had a gash from her throat to her chest. Not deep enough ta kill 'er, mind ya. But deep enough ta let her know. Nightmare discarded 'er."

"So she left? She stayed with ya, I'm assuming?" Death nodded in response. "After dat night in da papes the next mornin, was about da missin goil. It had been a couple of days since da fire. Nightmare dropped off da map for a few weeks after dat. Left me in charge, dats when I brought ya aboard ta help me since in the outskirts I was takin care of Steel. Relic and Whiskey nursed 'er back ta health when I couldn't be there. Nightmare couldn't know she was still in da area, he would have hunted 'er down and killed her."

"So what happened wit da missin goil?"

"Papes said she died in da fire, never found 'er body. Nightmare was eventually brought in for questioning. They didn't have da information ta hold him. Plus, he had too much dirt on the crooked bulls. They had no choice but ta let 'im go."

"That was that? They just let 'im go? Why?"

"No proof. Ya gotta remember how many of da bulls go through Nightmare, for everything. The bets of da week, smoke, women. Ya name it he has it."

"Did Steel love him?" Skittery asked uncomfortably, clearing his throat.

Death paused.

"I don't know. But Hell has no fury like a woman scorned."

It had been years ago, the murder of the girl. There was no closure to the case. The case had also rustled up other dirty secrets about him. The prior murders, the turf wars for example. Steel had captured his heart young. She was unconditionally devoted to him at the time. He knew that, but it just wasn't enough. She was a whore. He had made her a whore. Sold her to the crooked bulls or the business men looking for an escape from the corporate world. She was younger than most of the whores out there as well. She had contemplated killing him at one point. He doubted she would have actually pulled the trigger while aiming at him, but it had crossed her mind. She knew so much information from the years she spent in his bed or being his right hand man. She had been in charge of tracking down the victims. The ones easily distracted to steal from them. Those whose weakness was the drink and sex. Anything she could do to get your money she did. Steel held information about crooked political connections, which caused him to fear for his safety. If she said something to the wrong person those in power could hunt him down and make him disappear. No one would notice, nor question his disappearance.

Nightmare paced the alley that led him to her. By following her footsteps in the fresh snow she was easy to track. He had let her go. He hadn't expected her to survive, but she had stayed away. She slept in a lodging house right down the street from him, but she didn't show her face again in the triangle. She stayed out of the Kitchen for the most part. She was back now. Now she was angry. What had she been doing with Skittery? The thought tore at his heart. A jealous rage took over him. Punching the wall he let out a growl as he felt his knuckles split. Tears he couldn't decipher between a broken heart or pain. He watched as the blood started to dribble down is fingers before dropping in the snow.

Following the footsteps in the snow he walked into the small one stall holding area behind the carpenters shop. He heard the sounds of crying in the straw, right behind the stall door. He waited until they stifled down to just sniffling. Listening carefully he heard her make a bed in the straw and lay down. Nightmare slowly opened the stall door walking in.

Every hair bristled on the back of my neck. My body shuddered. I could smell him over the saw dust shavings. Wanting to vomit I could taste the familiar hint of bile on the back of my tongue. Every part of me wanted to run. But you just can't out run a nightmare.

"So that's why he hates her…" Skittery said softly. Death nodded as they walked up to the doorsteps. It was nearing dawn.

"We'll stay in the sickroom. That way no one will even know ya here." Skittery mumbled as noticed a pair of footprints leaving the lodging house. Skittery opened the door. They walked in silence to the separate room. Skittery held the door open as Death stumbled in and collapsed on the bed. When soft snores filled the room, he exited softly shutting the door. He made sure to let it click as softly as possible.

"Where's Ashleigh." questioned a soft voice. Skittery froze. His heart felt as if where going to leap from his chest.

"She wanted to be alone Whiskey." He responded before turning around. Whiskey was perched on the stairs, watching him. She had to have been there since they had entered.

"Ya brought Death back here. Where is Ashleigh?" she asked again, this time sterner.

"I don't know." He snapped back quietly.

Whiskey stared at him from the shadows. She didn't move from the stairs. She was at a loss of what to say.

"Where would she go?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"George's." she paused, "to see the horses."

Whiskey wasn't sure why she told him. It was just better if he stayed away from her. Let her be on her own. She wasn't made for the newsboy life. Or she would have been out here like the rest of them. Men were objects. She was cold hearted, malicious. Nightmare had made her that way. She saw them as an opportunity. After they slept she'd go through their pockets and take what little they had left after their night out. Whiskey had seen her give her heart out once. Then he took it and threw it all away. Nightmare had destroyed her in a way she would never quite recover.

"Nightmare." I whispered softly.

He bent down next to me then dropped to his knees. His hands gently brushed the hair away from my eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly. My mouth fell slightly open. I didn't know how to react. I had never expected to hear him utter those words. I sat up slowly. I ran my fingers through my hair pulling it from my face. I studied his features in the shadows. The years of the streets had aged him. His skin looked of soft leather. His eyes looked empty, broken. I could see past them though. I could still see the rage. My skin grew bumps as I shivered slightly. I could hear the wind blow. Maybe it was snowing again. I could still taste the bile in my mouth. My body ached.

"How can you apologize now?" I whispered.

"Because I should have done it a long time ago." He studied her carefully. Then brazenly he reached his hand out and let his fingers trace where the scar was. This time my stomach lurched. His fingers felt like ice on my skin.

"Please, don't do this." I begged softly.

He pulled me to him. His left hand firmly holding my clothing, while his right hand clasped the back of my neck. His lips were on mine. I held down the lump in my throat. His grip loosened on me. With the sudden bit of freedom I relaxed slightly. I wasn't as afraid. I didn't want this though. His left hand left my shirt, wrapping around my waist he made sure he was fully against my body. Delicately he lay me down. His hands began to undress me. I wanted to run. I knew what running would result in. He took his knife and traced it along the curve of my stomach. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Shhh…" he said softly. "I've been waiting for you for so long now."

"She doesn't love you Skittery." Whiskey said quietly. Skittery felt his skin crawl. She knew nothing about the two of them. They barely knew each other. He barely even had spoken to Steel. There was just something about her.

"It's her job, to make people fall in love with her." She continued. "You are just another customer."

"No I am not." He spat angrily at her. He wanted to hit her. Rage over took him. Why was everything he did so wrong? He had kept his distance and then he flirted with a line but he never did anything to treat her wrong. Whiskey rose from the steps.

"You shouldn't fall in love with a whore." She whispered softly. "They will only break your heart."

Skittery watched her as she turned and walked up the stairs. Skittery stood there confused, he didn't love her. He didn't think he did. Why was he so angry then? He was so angry at Death for making her leave. He had cherished the time they had together that night. She was laughing, smiling, most importantly; she was happy. What did either one of the two other men have to offer her but bad memories.

Waiting until he heard Whiskey's footsteps climb the stairs and down the hall. He waited for the click of the door before he left. He walked calmly from the lodging house. Once it was out of his sights he began to run. She shouldn't have been alone. No matter how angry she was, he shouldn't have let her walk off by herself. He only hoped that he could find her before Nightmare did.

Breathing heavily Nightmare readjusted his pants before pulling his shirt back on to his shoulders. I sat there in silence. Tears were falling down my cheeks. My back was rubbed raw. I could feel the bruises already forming on my thighs. They were sore, tender, and they ached as I attempted to curl up in a ball as I searched for my clothing. I tried to hold back the sobs. Then I heard footsteps. The sounds of whistling as the lights were lit in the holding area then back towards the stall. I felt my heart skip two beats. It was Mr. George, Nightmare tensed grabbing his gun he pushed the horse from her spot in the shadows. Backing against the wall he held his breath. I wanted to scream. To tell Mr. George to go away, but he didn't even know I was here yet. I stifled a sob. The whistling stopped. I could hear his boots in the dirt as he approached. The stall door slid open and he entered.

"Ashleigh…" he gasped quietly. He bent down towards me. I started to shake my head quickly, tears erupted uncontrollably.

"Run." I tried to force out. It sounded like a wheeze. Nightmare wouldn't risk getting caught. He grabbed for my clothing as Nightmare stepped out of the shadows. The barrel of gun was in his palm as he brought the butt down across the side of Mr. George's face. There was a cracking sound. The look of concern never left his face as he crumpled to the ground. Nightmare bent down grabbing my clothing. He kicked at the now motionless body of Mr. George as he dropped the clothes on top of me. I shuddered. I didn't try to stop the tears as I watched the blood drip off his brow into the hay. The small comfort of the animal was now gone. She had left the stall when Mr. George had entered. I pulled my clothes on clumsily. I left my boots untied. His knife still lay in the straw next to me.

Reassured you could say. That was the feeling about me. He hadn't killed Mr. George. As long as Mr. George didn't move until he was gone. He'd live. Then I would never come back. Nightmare would be watching. I stayed in my crouched position, to afraid to stand up. My shirt hung awkwardly on my shoulders. The buttons mismatched. His gaze seemed to burn into me. Finally my stomach just couldn't hold it in anymore. Hiccupping, followed by a wave of heat and I emptied my stomach's contents in the straw. Nightmare snickered. He was satisfied by my reaction. As I was wiping my mouth he walked and stood over Mr. George.

"To make sure you don't remember." He smiled as he went to hit him again with the butt of the gun.

That's when I felt it. A complete wave of euphoria washed over me. I felt calm, collected. Then I reacted. I snatched the knife from the straw and thrust it into the ribcage of Nightmare. He let out a pain filled yelp as I pushed the knife into the hilt. It seemed like slow motion as I ripped the blade back out. I never hesitated as I stuck it into his muscles again in his chest. Then he reacted. He fumbled with the gun. He was going to kill me. I couldn't die. I was not going to die. It was as if someone else had taken over me. I just kept pulling the knife out and stabbing it back in. He had dropped the gun and tried to wrestle me off. No hit could completely take me down. Every chance I had I tore at his body with the blade. There was blood everywhere already. But this time I hit some where tender. Then there was the blood that began to ooze out over my hand. There was a look of surprise on his face.

"I love you." he gurgled more than muttered. I said nothing but just stared at him.

"Please forgive me." He begged. I pulled the blade from his throat. I dropped the knife in the hay. Standing up slowly, I began to back away from him.

He lay down in the straw. There was a ringing in my ears as I stumbled in the dirt covered hallway. The dark bay had found her way to the feed bucket and was casually eating from it. She paused as she watched me walk past her. I slid the door shut to the entrance I walked out into the snow. The streets were still empty, and with the snow, would stay that way for a while. It was automatic. Everything was automatic. I began to walk towards home. I couldn't feel the cold against my skin. I couldn't comprehend what I had done. But I know what I had done. I had killed Nightmare.

Skittery had slowed to a steady walk. The chilled air burned his lungs from his prior running. He went towards Mr. George's. It was past her lodging house. He could hear giggling as he drew closer to her home. He felt his stomach twist when he recognized Mush's voice in the quiet morning. The alley was past her door. He'd have to walk past them. Keeping his head down, he pulled his thin jacket up tight around his neck, and pulled his hat down. He hoped the two love birds would be too distracted with each other to notice him.

"Skittery?" called out Mush inquisitively. He tried to ignore him, pretend like he didn't hear him. 

"Skittery." He heard his voice be called a bit more sternly. Spinning on his heel he turned towards the two.

"What?" he snapped. Exhaustion was taking over him. They both grew quiet.

"Somethin wrong?" Mush asked carefully choosing his words as he studied the body language of his friend.

"Just goin to meet Steel." He said shaking his head no. Filly was now studying him as well.

"We heard ya tell Whiskey and Jack she'd be okay." Filly inserted cautiously. Skittery was on edge.

"Yea well, she wandered off, now I'm goin to meet 'er." He said this time more calmly. Mush rose from his seat. Skittery anxiously pulled off his hat and rubbed his head. Filly stayed seated, she was uncomfortable with his agitated reactions. Mush slowly approached him.

"Skittery, I've known ya almost me whole life, somethin' wrong. What happened? Did something happen to Steel?" He asked carefully.

"NO." He snapped. "For fuck's sake. Were fine! Everything is fine."

Mush stepped back a moment. Filly rose from her perch. Something was not alright. When the two had snuck out earlier they had ruined Mush's and hers plan to sneak out. They had waited until Whiskey and Jack were asleep before doing the same. They were coming home for some privacy. She had half expected to see Skittery and Steel here, at their home. The small four bed room had been empty.

"Skitts." Mush said calmly. "It's alright…"

"It's not alright." He continued to snap. "It's not fucking alright. She ran off. Nightmare knows and now she's gone. She's fucking gone. I don't know where she is." He finished defeated. The air seemed colder. The chill could be felt to the bone.

Filly delicately walked down the steps. She avoided eye contact with either of them before she turned her back to them and began walking down the street. Skittery watched her go. Mush continued to stare at the man in front of him.

"Where would she go?"

"There's a carpenter right down the street from here. There's a single horse barn on the back side emptying into the alley. Her friend works there. She'd go to see the horse." He answered exhaling slowly. None of this made sense to him. He really hadn't an idea what was actually the cause for all of this. Why was he even running after her? What had she ever done for him? Who was she? The thoughts whirled in his head.

"Let's go then, lead the way. I don't think ya should be by yaself." Mush suggested waiting for Skittery's lead. Nodding Skittery bit his lip and walked towards the direction of the shop. Mush followed. Walking in silence, they reached the end of the block.

"We'll go around the." Skittery froze. He felt his heart flutter. I walked towards them. My long hair was studded with straw. I was numb my skin felt like porcelain, and I could faintly feel the wetness of the dark crimson blood. My clothing hung astray. Skittery heard Mush gasp slightly. Neither man knew what to do. I walked towards them. As I grew closer I could almost sense them studying me. What I looked like. I was there, but I didn't feel like I was. I didn't even acknowledge the men I approached and soon passed them.

Mush went to grab me, but Skittery stopped his arm from reaching. Skittery watched carefully as I walked past them towards home. I just had to get home. All I could taste was the stale alcohol mixed with bile. Everything smelt of metal. I felt wet.

The two newsboys followed me to the lodging house. Entering the lodging house, I let the door close behind me as if they weren't even there. They opened the door, following me up to my floor of the lodging house. I was silent. I wondered if this is how it felt to be a ghost. Following me into my room, I could feel Skittery's and Mush's presence behind me. I had no words. I couldn't even cry. I unbuttoned my shirt as I walked across the room towards the washroom. As the fabric loosened I let it fall from my shoulders. I kicked off my boots as I made my way towards the shared tub. Leaving my pants on, I grabbed for Illusion's comb that lay on the sink. Climbing into the tub I turned on the cold water as I began to comb the straw from my hair.

"Skittery. It's like we aren't even here." Mush whispered.

"Go find me some fresh clothes in the room. Ya know which bunk is hers." Skittery whispered as he silently entered the washroom, shutting the door with a click behind him.

"Steel." He said my name softly. I just wanted the straw out of my hair. I didn't want to smell the sweet hay anymore. The smell was nauseating.

"Ashleigh." Skittery called softly. I paused for only a second before continuing to comb my hair.

"Just a moment…" I forced in a whisper. Skittery knelt next to the tub. I felt his fingers touch my shoulder. I pulled away from his touch as if it were fire. He jumped slightly. It was then I realized he was really there, not just some figment of my imagination.

"Shhh…Ashleigh." He paused; he was at a loss for words. "Want me to help you?" he offered his voice was low and calm. I finally turned my head enough to look at his face. He looked panic stricken, but he held his composure well. I nodded slowly and handed him the comb. He bent to his knees and gently began to run the comb through my hair. He was gentle. As the tub filled, I shut off the water. What was once clear water was now dirty brown. It was disgusting, just like me.

Filly was known for her speed. But with the snow and the longer distance back towards Manhattan, she had to slow to a walk. Hands on her hips she bent over to catch her breath as she reached the doorsteps of the Manhattan newsboys lodging house. After catching her breath she climbed the stairs. She could hear slight movement upstairs. The boys were starting to wake for the morning edition. Climbing the stairs two at a time she took a deep breath before opening the door slowly to make sure it didn't make too much noise. She went straight to the bunk that held the sleeping bodies for Jack and Whiskey.

"Whiskey, it's Steel. Something's happened."

There was a light rapping on the door. I made no movement to answer it. I just stayed sitting in the tub.

"Yea?" Skittery called.

"I got her some clothes." Responded Mush from the other side of the door.

"Just leave them there. I'll be out there soon."

He just continued to comb my hair. He had gotten most of the straw out of it now, and was working on the last knot.

"Ya wanna talk about what happened?" he asked not trying to pry. I could hear the concern in his voice. I didn't respond though.

"Ya know Whiskey is gonna be here shortly. She's gonna break this door down to get to ya." He chuckled slightly. I opened my mouth slightly.

"She needs to go find Death. I made a mess. I need him to clean it up." I whispered.

"Okay, I can do that. Hold on." Skittery rose from his crouched position on the floor and left the wash room. I cupped my hands holding the dirty water in them before splashing it on my face. I could hear the two men talking, than one of them exited. There was silence in both rooms. Skittery sat on a bunk, I could hear the squeak. I didn't even know how to begin to tell him what I had done. I wasn't even fully sure of what I had done.

Whiskey was up and out of the bunk before Filly could step away. Pulling on her boots she glanced around the room.

"Go to the sickroom, get the boy in there. Tell him to meet me out front." She instructed. This was something she had prepared for. When she had met me on the streets years ago, it was just after the fire. Death had brought her on to take care of me. Help nurse me back from what Nightmare had done to me. Our bond was unbreakable. She was well aware that one day it may have consequences. Last night seemed like it had been the night. Filly left Whiskey's side and went down stairs to wake the sleeping man.

"Sir…uh, ya need to get up. Whiskey said for ya to meet 'er outside." She said staring at him. He looked dead to the world. Annoyed Filly nudged him lightly.

"Hey you." She said louder, again prodding him with a finger. His eyes opened up.

"What?"

"Steel needs you. Meet Whiskey out front." Filly responded annoyed. Death lay there a moment taking in the information she had shared with him. Once it registered he sat up rubbing his face.

"Is Steel here?" He asked, starting to remember the night before.

"We don't know where she is." Filly answered, her annoyance growing.

"Where's Whiskey?" he asked. Her patience had reached its limits.

"Enough questions. I don't know. Get up, go outside and meet Whiskey out there." She snapped. Death looked at her and rose from the bed. After tying his boots he exited from the sickroom. He met Whiskey coming down the stairs.

"What happened?" he asked her.

"That's the question I should be asking you." She retorted shortly.

"We need to get to the carpenters. If we hurry we can make it before the shop owner gets there. I bet Mr. George has seen her. If we're lucky the shop won't open because of the snow. It snowed more last night while we slept." She answered quietly, exiting the lodging house. She trotted down the steps into the street.

"Come on, let's hurry. Something was up last night, I knew it. I could feel it." She said shaking her head.

"I just hope Nightmare didn't kill her." Death said solemnly trying to keep up with the girl.

Mush was running. He felt as if he had wings at the moment. The thick snow was causing problems for quick travel. He had slipped and fallen at least twice now. He had noticed Filly sneak away and now he hoped that she had already gone and gotten Whiskey from the lodging house. He was about halfway to the lodging house when he rounded a corner nearly taking out Whiskey. Slamming into her the two connected for a moment as the momentum swung them around. Death attempted to stabilize both of them. He was only successful in holding Whiskey up. Mush collapsed into the snow again.

"Where's the fire?" asked Death with a smirk. Mush grunted slightly as he stood up, wiping the snow from his pants, before attempting to shake the wetness from his hands. His fingers were frozen. Crossing his arms he put his hands under his armpits for warmth.

"It's worse than we thought." He coughed, trying to catch his breath. Whiskey waited patiently for him to collect himself.

"What do you mean?" inquired Death, almost unsure if he wanted to know the truth.

"She was covered in blood; she looked as if she had seen a ghost. It was like me and Skitts weren't even there!" he exclaimed.

Whiskey didn't wait for anymore words to leave Mush's mouth.

"I'm going to get Relic, Death go with Mush to our lodging house. Be quiet, it's a woman's lodging house. Get Skittery and go find Nightmare. I'll take Relic with me back to the lodging house." She instructed bending down to tighten her boots. She was uncomfortable venturing that far into the Kitchen. But Relic would have just finished up from work getting ready to head home. Smiling at the two boys Whiskey tipped her hat.

"Told ya this would happen someday." She whispered to herself. It fell on Death's ears and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yea, well let's hope that it wasn't like it was last time. At least she's alive."

The water was starting to feel as cold as it really was. I shivered slightly from the chilliness. I glanced around the washroom. Skittery had finished combing my hair. He sat cross legged on the bare wooden floor just watching me.

"You ready to get out now?" he asked softly. There were a million questions streaming through his head right now. He knew better then to ask the question. The less you know in cases like these, the better.

"Yea, it's quiet cold in here." I whispered studying my arms and the goose-bumps that now lined them. Skittery rose from his spot and grabbed one of the linens crumbled on the floor. I stood in the bathtub. The pants were water logged and pulled down on my hips. Unbuttoning them I gingerly pulled them down, careful to avoid touching my thighs. In a time were being decent was required, it was the furthest thing from my mind. Skittery turned to hand me the linen when he saw where the majority of the damage had been done. His face contorted, first it was as if he was going to throw up, followed by the look of rage before becoming blank.

I stepped from the tub wrapping the linen around me at my chest. Skittery bent down slowly and the hoisted me up into his arms. Taking me from the washroom he brought me to my bunk. He lay me down in the bed pulling the blanket up around me. As he was pulling blankets from the other bunks the door to our room opened. Death and Mush nearly tumbled in the door together as they almost fought to be in the room first. Death immediately came to my side. Skittery paused letting the two of us be. Mush pulled him into the washroom to talk.

"Heya beautiful." Death whispered softly brushing my hair from his face with his calloused fingers. I didn't respond. I couldn't respond. I just stared at him blankly.

"Ya wanna tell me what happened?" he asked, he kept his voice low and soft, as if it would frighten me. I could replay the scene in my head. The whole time in the stall was constantly replaying in my head. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.

"I just wanted ta be alone." I whispered. I kept my eyes closed as if it would help me to remember if I couldn't see anything else. "He came in. I didn't want to. I just couldn't fight. I didn't want ta make noise. Someone else would hear, they'd come in. He'd kill 'em. Ya know he would." Death remained silent as I spoke slowly. "Mr. George came in. To tend to the horse. The horse was there the whole time!" I whispered shuttering. She was my silent witness to what had happened. "Mr. George, he came into da stall. I tried to tell him to run. I just couldn't talk." I felt my voice broke as I tried not to cry. "Nightmare, nightmare, he hit him. Mr. George fell down, he didn't move. He wasn't moving." I felt myself starting to panic. Death's hand gently touched my cheek as if to try and calm me. "I saw his knife." I opened my eyes looking at Death. Death met my glance.

"What happened next, Steel?" he urged me on.

"I stabbed him." I choked out. "I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I had no control." I started to cry. My attempt to stifle my sob caught the ears of the boys in the washroom. The door opened quickly.

"What are you doing to her?" snapped Skittery as he quickly crossed the room grabbing Death by the arm tearing him away from me. Death pulled his arm away ignoring Skittery and bent back down next to me.

"Is Mr. George still alive?" he continued not wanting to lose any valuable information he could.

"I don't know." I shook my head. I had no idea if he was still alive, He hadn't moved while they were in the stall. Death waited patiently for me to continue. I could see Skittery's anger rising steadily behind him. Mush must have been able to sense it because he gently touched Skittery's arm. Skittery's body tensed. The room was silent. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.

"I killed him Death. I killed him." I finally forced out. Death just stared at me for a moment. He didn't really know how to react. After what seemed like an eternity he rose from his spot. Turning quickly he faced the two other men in the room.

"Skittery, we gotta get there before the shop opens. Hopefully with the snow, it will open late if at all. Mush, ya goin back to Manhattan, ya gotta keep Illusion and Filly calm and away from here." He paused to rub his face as he continued to plan. "But foist ya gonna stay and wait for Relic and Whiskey to get back." He nodded as if he were happy with his plan.

Mush didn't object as he took Skittery's role of gathering the blankets from the room. Death started for the door, Skittery following suit. For the two of them it was like old times. They had to clean the damage before the bulls were notified.

Walking up to Knight's Tavern Whiskey ran her fingers through her hair. She felt horrible for the things she had said to Skittery. She just wanted him to avoid this whole mess. Now he was in it further then she could have hopped and she didn't even know the true severity of what had happened. Contemplating on knocking on the front door, she thought better of it and made her way around back. There were two or three women outback bundling up, one or two of them were playing with the snow.

"I'm lookin for a girl by the name of Relic." She called out. Three of the women ignored her. The fourth came forward. Her face was hidden by a hood, and she was wrapped tightly in a shawl.

"What do ya want with her?" Relic asked cautiously trying to drop her rough New York accent.

"Relic? It's me Whiskey. We got a few things to discuss." Whiskey said clearing her throat. Relic pulled her hood off her head.

"Ya wanna go for a walk then?" she asked with a small smile. "It's been a while Whiskey. Territory I haven't seen ya in, in a while."

Whiskey shrugged. "I ain't here on good terms. Something finally happened with Steel and Nightmare. We need to go back to my lodging house."

"He came here yesterday. He found me outback. He roughed me up a bit. Then went inside. I didn't have time to warn her." Relic said defeated.

"Well, she was alright. She came out ta Manhattan. But she left last night with Skittery. Then she went off on her own." Whiskey explained. Nodding Relic took it all in.

"Ya think he tried to kill her?" She asked after a moment of silence as they continued their walk back towards Whiskey's home.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her yet." Whiskey said shaking her head. As they drew closer, the streets were beginning to have a few wanderers. Most of the shops were still closed; many of them probably wouldn't open today due to the excessive snow. The walk to the lodging house seemed to take longer than before.

Death and Skittery walked quietly into the back alley stable. There was no noise and the lights in the carpenters shop was still out. The closed sign had still hung in the door as they had walked past to go to the back. Sliding the stable door open the two entered. Knife's in hand they were ready for any assault that may have been waiting for them. A large bay mare spooked at their entrance quickly attempting to run to her stall before stopping and backing up towards them.

"Easy…easy…" whispered Death quietly gently touching her back haunches. Running his hands down the large animal's flanks he grabbed the rope halter that hung loosely on her face.

"Close the door Skitts." Death called back to him. Skittery slid the door shut. A low moan could be heard coming from the stall.

"Someone is still alive." Skittery said quietly. Death glanced at him and nodded towards the stall door as he held the horse still. Skittery kept his distance from the animal as he crept next to the wall. Opening the stall door a smell of vomit and blood lingered in the air. Two men lay face down in the straw. The low groan came again. Death had let go of the mare and entered the stall. He walked quickly over to Nightmare; he nudged his body with the toe of this boot. The body was heavy, but no noise came from the crumpled body of the man. He turned his attention to the black man who lay in the straw as well.

"Don't." Skittery said quickly. He bent down to be closer to Mr. George.

"George?" He whispered. With no response he gently nudged the old man's shoulder. A whimper left his lips. Skittery sighed in relief.

"Pull him outside. I can't get the bodies out of here without someone noticing. I gotta do something else." Death said. The stress was evident in his voice.

"All the way out?" Skittery asked carefully.

"All the way out. Then get out of here. I'll take care of this. I'll meet you at the girls lodging house in about an hour." Death instructed. Skittery didn't question him. This was what Death did. He needed to be alone anyway. To think about the events that had played out before him from last night until this morning.

Grabbing Mr. George's shoulders he pulled the dead weight of the man through the hallway. Death had again taken control of the large animal that had to be able to sense the death and dying around her. She whinnied nervously as Skittery passed. Death reassured her with soft clucking. Skittery stopped only to open the door. Pulling Mr. George out of the stable, he slid the door behind him. Crouching over Mr. George Skittery held his hand to the older man's nose. When he felt the hot air hit his hand in almost a steady manner, a sense of relief started to come back over him. Glancing around him quickly he surveyed his options for a stealthy and unnoticeable escape. The fire ladder hung a few feet off the ground, but offered a perfect opportunity. Without looking back, Skittery ran to the ladder, and began pulling himself up. His adrenaline was running. Once he hit the roof, he took off running to the adjoining roofs. It wasn't until he was sure he had travelled the blocks length of rooftops did he finally collapse.

Death emptied the dead man's pockets. He collected Nightmare's gun and few coins. In his back pocket of the pants he found a piece of paper folded and worn. He looked at it a moment before grabbing the blood covered knife. He made the sign of the cross as he shuddered slightly knowing what he had to do next. He grabbed handfuls of straw and let them scatter as he exited from the shop. At the entrance he opened the door letting the horse out. It was just better to let the horse go, the silent witness to the morning's death. Mr. George now sat up in the snow, his hands against his face. Death knew the only way to make the man look like a victim and not the attacker was for him to be unconscious when the bulls arrived. Death used the butt of the gun against the back of the old man's head. He hit him, not nearly as hard as Nightmare probably had, but enough to put him to sleep. Death rose and used his matches to light a small fire in the stall. He added more matches to fuel the fire as he waved on the flames with an old paper. Once the fire began to pick up he backed out from the building. He pulled the unconscious man further from the door so he wouldn't burn in the fire. Then he made his escape.

Relic and Whiskey bound up the stairs of the lodging house. I could hear them as they grew closer. Whiskey slammed the door open and was across the room in maybe two strides. Relic shut it quietly behind the pair. Whiskey smiled as she saw me whole. Her arms were around me. There was comfort there. I felt as the knot in my chest rupture and the sobs quickly came over me. Relic was soon beside me on the bunk, her arms around both of us. They cradled me while I cried. They said nothing. The emotion ran heavily and as comforting as the girls arms were, I craved the arms of Theresa.

After a few moments Relic and Whiskey sat back. Neither wanted to ask, but both wanted to know. It was written all over their faces. I rubbed my eyes before slowly taking a deep breath.

"I didn't mean to do it. Once he was done, I just lost it. Something inside of me snapped. It wasn't real, at least it didn't feel that way." I paused replaying the scene in my head. "His knife was on the ground, in the hay. I just grabbed it and started to stab him over and over. I put that knife into him anywhere I could. Then he looked at me. I could see the pain in his face. Not the physical pain, but like I broke his heart. He told me he loved me." I choked up slightly. "He asked me for forgiveness. But he raped me! He has for all these years. He beat me; he used me, sold me. I just couldn't do it anymore. I loved him. I loved Nightmare. Even when he almost killed me, I still loved him. I just couldn't stop. I just couldn't stop."

The tears began again. They slid off my cheeks with little to no effort. I was a murderer. I had to leave. I couldn't put these people in harm's way. Nightmare's death would cause outrage through the underworld. Battling for a new leader would begin and to avenge the death of Nightmare. She would be one of the first they came looking for. I looked blankly at the girls in front of me. I felt myself shudder at the thought of putting them in danger. I had to leave. There was no other choice.

Skittery sat on top of the building. His body was slowly returning to a normal feeling. The coldness was penetrating his body through his clothes. He had never seen so much blood. Steel had mangled Nightmare. The bruising was horrendous on her body, the welts had already started to form over her delicate limbs by the time she had reached him. Who had seen her? A girl walking down the street covered in blood is something that draws attention even in the early morning hours. It was a matter of time before the story broke out and someone came forward with information on seeing the girl covered in blood staggering away from the scene. He could imagine the headlines now, "Angel of Death Seen Leaving Inferno". He shuddered slightly with a burn in his throat as he quickly readjusted before emptying his stomach of the churning bile. With a sigh he began to climb his way down the fire escape. Dark black smoke was filling the air. Death's job must be complete. Skittery made his way back towards the lodging house that held the girls.

Death took off down the alley, creating a new set of foot prints in the snow leading away from this lodging house. He ran until he reached an abandoned building and quickly scaled the fire escape. Once in the safety of the building he stopped to catch his breath, his hands still shaking from the whole scenario. He trembled slightly thinking about the possible outcomes. Someone would have seen. All it would take was just one person. "Only God can save you know Steel, only God can save you now."

There were footsteps on the stairs. Relic quickly ran to the window that over looked the street.

"It's the bulls." She stammered.

"How?" asked Whiskey panicking. I felt my heart race. The snow, of course. It would make sense. I had been covered in Nightmare's blood. All they had to do was follow the bloody footprints. I felt my heart reach my throat. There was no were to run. No fire escape to run down. The banging on the door was loud and abrupt. Whiskey took a defensive stance in front of me while Relic opened the door. The men dressed in black didn't wait long before then shoved past her filling the room and entering the bathroom. The older officer came out with the bloody garments in his hands.

"Which one of you is it?' He asked calmly. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. Let's go, come on ladies." He said his voice taking a paternal tone. Whiskey shook her head grabbing my wrist as I stepped out of her protective shadow. The officer looked me over sighing deeply. Part of me hoped he could see the bruises that I felt. Maybe I could make him understand. The tears stung the corners of my eyes.

"Come on ma'am." He said as he took a firm grip on my upper arm. Relic moved quickly behind him, another officer pouncing on her restraining her.

"You don't understand!" Relic screamed at him angrily, tears had begun to trace her cheeks.

"Unless you are part of this, it would be best for you to keep your mouth shut." The paternal like officer said sternly. Relic's body drooped slightly in the officer's firm grip. I glanced at Whiskey. There was sadness strewn across her face. I let the man lead me from the room. The wooden stair case seemed shorter than it ever had. He opened the front door to a small crowd starting to gather around the wagon pulled by horses. I could smell the burnt smell of timber heavy in the air. I glanced around the crowd searching for a familiar face, for a comfort. I could see the snow which was stained crimson. I bit my lip as the tears began to fall. I had led them back to me, right back to me. A younger officer opened the door. I looked back once more towards the lodging house. Relic and Whiskey stood in the window; Whiskey's head buried in Relic's shoulder with last scan of the crowd when I saw him standing there. Skittery stood silently. He looked worn and broken.

"I'm sorry." I called to him, the officer shoved me forward. "I'm so sorry." I started to cry frantically. Skittery pushed to the crowd to get to me. Two large male officers fought to keep him back.

"It'll be okay Ashleigh." He cried. "It'll be okay."

The officer slammed the wagon door shut and darkness consumed me.


End file.
